


Third Degree

by therunawaypen



Series: Meet the Bonds [18]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Accidents, Hurt Q, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Retired James, Retirement, Worried James
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James thought the danger of MI6 was behind him after he retired.</p><p>He never imagined that he would receive a visit from agents informing him that his husband's life was hanging in the balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know if you’re still taking prompts, but in your ‘Meet the Bonds’ universe, maybe something where Q is seriously injured (after Bond is retired)? —anon

Q was late getting home, James realized as he finished getting dinner ready. He usually called if he was going to be home later than 6:30.

Both Andrew and Charmain were at the dinner table, so he went ahead and served them their chicken parmesan. “Daddy must be running late.” He told them when they asked why they were starting dinner without Q, “He’ll join us when he gets here.”

If either of them was worried, they didn’t show it, tucking into their dinner with gusto. James rather enjoyed the meal himself. It was a new recipe and he had been wanting to try it for a while. No doubt Q would eat half his wait in the chicken when he finally got home, he always did have the worst habit of forgetting to eat while he was working.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted their dinner. Strange, because Q didn’t need to ring the doorbell, and they weren’t expecting any company. James stood slowly, “I’ll be right back you two. Behave.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, as if he and Charmain did anything  _but_ behave, and continued with his food.

It was about halfway to the door that James could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was that feeling he had so often received while he had been a full time agent, that something was about to go terribly wrong. It was that feeling that was usually followed by being shot or otherwise injured. It was that feeling that made James grab the gun hidden in the table in the entry way of their home, keeping it hidden behind his back as he opened the door.

He knew an MI6 employee when he saw one, no matter how nondescript they were trying to be. There were two of them standing outside the door.

And James only knew of thing MI6 had to send agents  _personally_  for.

“Mr. Bond.” One of them said.

James wanted to vomit. “…Is it Monique?” He whispered, fearing what fate might have befallen the daughter who had followed in his footsteps.

“Your daughter is fine, Mr. Bond.”

“It’s your husband.”

* * *

 

It had been a bomb. A damn bomb in Q branch. At least three of Q’s employees were dead, though James couldn’t bring himself to care. All he could think of was Q, who was currently in surgery, and how he might have to live without the love of his life.

There was a part of James, the part not out of his mind with terror and worry, that couldn’t help but wonder if Q had felt the exact same emotions he was now feeling all those times when he would be injured or declared dead.

Andrew and Charmain were with the twins, which James could only be grateful for. He don’t know if he could have kept it together in front of his children.

Several doctors came out of the door James was pacing in front of, none of them would look at James. This of course did nothing to ease his sense of dread. It was only when the agent who had been escorting him came to James’s side that he finally learned what had happened.

“Luckily, the Quartermaster had his back turned when the bomb went off,” The agent nodded, “He has some serious burns on his back, but no lasting damage was done due to shrapnel.”

James didn’t rightly care about the details in that moment, “Can I see him?”

The agent looked at him, “Even if I told you no, you’d find a way in.” With that, the agent led James to a hospital room. It was all James could do to keep from running inside.

Seeing Q sprawled out on his stomach on a hospital bed was perhaps one of the most heart-wrenching things he had seen. And he had been through quite a bit in his many years. James could barely think, trying to block out the sound of the heart monitor beeping in the background, or the sterile white bandages that covered his husband’s body (and head, as his thick hair had been singed off).

With a shaky breath, James sunk into the chair next to his husband’s bed, and gently took Q’s slightly burnt hand, praying to whatever deity would listen to spare his husband.

Because James had realized that he couldn’t live without his husband, and in that way, Q had always been the stronger of the two of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Their bedroom had become a makeshift hospital room. Q had demanded (when he was awake enough to be coherent) that he wanted to recover at home, and not in the medical bay. James had been all too willing to oblige. He had missed being able to sleep next to Q in their bed.

Well, not that James did much sleeping. Instead, he spent much of his time simply watching Q sleep (which did tend to happen a lot). James couldn’t help it, nearly losing Q made him desperate to see his husband as often as he could.

Not for the first time, James was glad to be retired. Not having to worry about missions allowed James to focus on taking care of Q. It was a full time job, making sure that Q was taking all of his pain medication and antibiotics, changing his bandages, helping him hobble to the bathroom whenever Q demanded to use the toilet.

“I never thought I’d see the day where the deadly 007 would become a nurse.” Q murmured, drowsy from painkillers as he lay on his stomach on their bed.

“Times change, love.” James smiled softly, kneeling next to Q so he was in his husband’s line of sight without Q having to turn his head, “How are you feeling?”

Q sighed, “I’m numb James, I have more than enough painkillers.” He closed his eyes briefly, “I miss being able to work.”

James reached out, touching Q’s cheek (careful to avoid any of the healing burns, “Work will be there after you recover.” He chuckled, “You know the twins will take care of Q branch for you.”

“The thought of John and Greg running _my_ lab is what keeps me up at night.”

“That’s a lie, you sleep fine.”

“You drug me, you ass.”

“Your ass.”

Q smiled softly, “Well, I suppose you’re right about that.”

James smiled back at his husband, glad to see his husband’s spirit returning to him despite his injuries. Now it would only be a matter of time before Q was back on his feet and things could go back to normal, as if nothing had happened (even if there might be scars on Q’s neck and back for the rest of his life.

It was the sound of someone clearing their throat that broke the moment, “If I may interrupt…” Both parents looked up to see Andrew standing in the doorway, holding a dinner tray, “I made some soup for Dad.”

Always the courteous one, Andrew, “Thank you, Andrew.” James smiled, “I’ll take it from here.”

“Oh no you won’t.” Q snorted, then winced slightly, “You haven’t slept in nearly two days, James. You aren’t an agent anymore, you aren’t invincible.”

“I can feed my husband.”

“And I can feed my dad.” Andrew interrupted, “Just lie down and take a nap, Papa.”

It didn’t take a genius to know James was out numbered. And considering the fact that he was outnumbered by actual geniuses (once technical, one psychological), James held up his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. You win.” He chuckled, moving to the other side of the bed and laying down next to Q.

Andrew smoothly moved to sit in the chair by Q’s head, holding the tray in his lap. He smiled softly, helping his dad eat the soup, not making any fuss when he wiped away any soup that escaped his dad’s mouth.

James got comfortable on his side of his bed, watching his husband and his youngest son with a soft tenderness. As James felt his eyes lids grow heavy, he rested his hand on Q’s, finding comfort in the warmth of his husband’s skin.

And feeling Q squeeze his hand gently was all James needed to fall into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
